


Up to My Neck in You

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: When Bellamy comes back with the others, he seems pleasantly surprised with Clarke’s new haircut.





	Up to My Neck in You

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, I haven't watched a good deal of season 5. Because of that, I decided to write what I would liked to have seen from the beginning. 
> 
> bff prompt: "Hi! First whether you write it or not, thanks for your work. You guys are the best <3\. Now my prompt: "Why are you always stroking my neck?... wait, did you just kiss it?" in which Clarke gets a bob haircut and Bellamy gets "platonically" captivated and obsessed with her exposed neck. I was thinking on a kind of s5 canonverse, but I'd be ok with a modern AU too."

It took just over a year for Clarke to realize that she needed to cut her hair. Ever since she’d landed on the ground, nothing she did was about vanity, and neither was this. It was the practical decision.

Madi could take care of herself—made evident the second she and Clarke first made eye contact—but she was so young, and Clarke knew what it felt like to grow up too fast. Despite the horrors they were going to live through, Clarke wanted her to remain a child for as long as possible, so she became the caregiver—the hunter, the forager, and the cook. She took care of the valley and kept it habitable day after day. Madi helped, of course. With just the two of them, it was an all-hands-on-deck situation, but Clarke took the lead and the brunt of the work.

Her hair became unmanageable quick. She was surprised it took her that long to cut it—after the hell she’d been through since first getting to the ground—and it was a relief to get it out of the way once and for all.

She chopped it just below her chin, while Madi watched in horror, and shook her head in amazement when she looked at the final pile of hair on the ground. Clarke felt so much lighter. After a few seconds of staring at the pile, Madi reached her tiny fingers out to touch the ends near her right cheek and she smiled.

Since then, Clarke has kept it short, even letting Madi take over cutting it for her after a few years. They used different colored berries to dye it every few months and when Bellamy and the others _finally_ make it back to the ground, there’s a bright pink patch peeking through.

It’s the first thing Raven comments on after the initial shock of finding Clarke alive. There are still tears in her eyes when she reaches out—just like Madi had when Clarke first cut it—and says, “I like this. It suits you.”

“Thanks,” Clarke says self-consciously, reaching up to touch it herself and making eye contact with Bellamy. She can’t help but notice that he hasn’t looked away once since she found where they landed. “You have a beard.”

“Oh,” he chokes out before letting out a small laugh, “yeah.”

“You all look so different,” she tells them, feeling sad that she’s missed out on seeing them get to this point. While she was alone, making sure she and Madi just stayed alive, they were all together, making new lives and bonds.

“You look so _alive_ ,” Murphy says, and she laughs through a new set of tears. “That nightblood is no joke.”

Madi makes herself known now and they all look at her, standing few steps behind Clarke, hiding from them the best she can while still trying to get glimpses of them all. Clarke has told her stories and shown her drawings of each and every one of them and she has no doubt Madi can tell exactly who’s who.

Clarke holds a hand out for her and she takes it and lets her pull her forward. “Guys, this is Madi. We’ve been waiting for you.”

\--

That night, long after Madi has passed out from the excitement of having new people around, Clarke sits around a small fire with Raven, Bellamy, and Monty. The others have gone to bed—in the cabins Clarke had set up years before, just waiting for people to fill them.

“You’re alive,” Bellamy says, _again,_ and Clarke nods. “I don’t believe it.”

“She’s right there,” Monty reminds him, shoving his shoulder jokingly. “Believe it.”

“I don’t believe you’re actually here. You’re _back_ ,” Clarke says and Raven nods. Clarke can see the exhaustion in her eyes. She’s already heard about all the work it took to get them back to Earth and she wants to thank Raven a million more times for figuring it out—for getting them all home. “I feel like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and it’ll be just a dream. It’ll be just me and Madi again.”

“You’re not getting rid of us that easy,” Raven promises.

“ _Good_.”

Clarke knows it has more to do with Earth than her—they didn’t even know she was alive, after all—but she’s so happy to see them and have them back that she doesn’t even care. They’re _home_.

They still have the bunker to worry about and the other ship that landed a few days earlier, but for tonight, they can relax.

Monty begs off first, walking straight to where he saw Harper turn in earlier. Clarke watches the door she knows Madi is behind and sees Raven stand up and stretch her arms over her head from the corner of her eye.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she says, smiling at Clarke. Her eyes land on Bellamy and they share a private conversation with just their facial expressions until Bellamy laughs and tells her to have a good night.

And then there’s just the two of them. When Bellamy stands from across the fire, Clarke’s heart sinks. She doesn’t want him to go yet. Not _him_. But he doesn’t. Instead, he walks around the fire and sits right next to her, leaving only a few inches between them.

“I’m sorry we’re late.”

“It’s not your fault,” she reminds him and he shrugs, pained. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

“We need to find that other ship you told us about. They can help us with the bunker.”

“I’ve been watching them from the hills,” she admits. “I know where to find them, but they don’t look very friendly.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he promises and she smiles. They _will_ figure it out. Together. “I should find a bed.”

“There are a few in there with Raven,” she tells him, nodding as the door slaps shut. “We have a couple, too, but I’m a little nervous it might be too much for Madi. She’s already really overwhelmed.”

“I get it.” He smiles at her. It’s this really genuine, soft smile she hasn’t seen in so long and it makes her want to cry. Bellamy’s sitting there, right to next to her, and it’s _not_ a dream. She’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll still be there. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

They stand up together and she hugs him without a second of hesitation. He hugs her back, his hand settling on the back of her neck, holding her against him. Before he left, he’d grab her hair and clutch it. She likes the feel of his hand on her skin, though. It’s just another good reason to keep her hair short.

As if he’s read her mind, he pulls back and tweaks a piece of the pink in her hair before letting his hand fall and rest against her neck. “I like your hair.”

“I like your beard.”

They smile—still in each other’s arms—and for one second, Clarke thinks he might kiss her. He leans his head forward and sucks in a breath, but when she lifts her chin to bring her mouth to be level with his, he looks down and lets his hands fall completely. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Bellamy,” she breathes, watching him walk away. She just stands there, watching him retreat, until the door falls shut behind him.

\--

“Well, you were right,” Bellamy announces two days later when he comes up behind Clarke, Madi, and Monty. His hand settles on Clarke’s shoulder and she looks up at him. “They’re not very friendly. But they are going to help us get the others out of the bunker.”

“What do they want in return?” Echo asks as she and Raven join them.

“They didn’t say,” Bellamy says with a sigh, eyes connecting with Clarke’s. He looks so ragged. He’s only been back for a few days and he looks ready to give up.

“It’s a start,” Clarke tells him, reaching up to squeeze his hand that’s still on her shoulder. He smiles tightly down at her as his thumb brushes across the nape of her neck. “When do they want to go?”

“First light tomorrow.”

“Good,” Raven says before she looks at the small home Clarke and Madi have built for them. “But where are we all going to fit? The valley’s not big.”

“Let’s get them out first,” Monty rationalizes, “then we’ll figure that part out.”

“He’s right,” Clarke agrees and there’s a collective sigh from the rest of the group. It’s going to be hard… but when has it ever been _easy_?

She chances a look at Madi and can’t help but notice that she looks nervous and still overwhelmed. She squeezes Bellamy’s hand once more and he removes it from her shoulder so she can stand and offer Madi a hand.

“We’ll start dinner,” Bellamy says and she smiles over her shoulder as she and Madi head into their cabin.

“You want to talk?”

“Yes,” Madi says, curling her legs beneath her as she sits on her bedroll. “Why does he keep _touching_ you?”

“ _What?!”_ Clarke nearly yells. That’s not what she was expecting Madi would want to talk about. She doesn’t even know what she’s referring to. “Who?”

“Bellamy,” she answers with a roll of her eyes. “Every time he sees you, one of his hands ends up on you. You don’t notice it?”

Of course she notices it. Ever since he hugged her goodnight, she’s noticed how one of his hands is on her, usually on her shoulder with a finger across the back of her neck. She’s noticed it, but she doesn’t want to bring it up. She doesn’t want it to _end_.

Clarke always knew that she missed him, but she didn’t know she missed him like _that_.

“That’s just Bellamy,” she says finally. “And that’s not what I was talking about. Don’t you want to talk about the bunker? Or about how our home isn’t just ours anymore?”

“I’ve been waiting for them as long as you have,” Madi tells her quietly, almost like she’s ashamed. “Not like you’re not enough for me, but I needed them, too.”

Clarke sits down next to her and reaches for the hand on her knee, squeezing it. “Madi, I know. I’m glad you have other people around. I’m just nervous that soon there will be too many.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Madi nudges her gently. “You and Bellamy. Right?”

“We _all_ will.”

Madi rolls her eyes again and rests her head on Clarke’s shoulder. “He _is_ always touching you. And I don’t think it’s just a Bellamy thing. He’s never touching Raven or Harper.”

“Go help them with dinner,” Clarke sighs, pushing her off the bed to stand up. “I don’t think they remember how to cook real food.”

“You’re probably right.”

Clarke smiles after her and waits for the door to close before she runs a hand over her face and sighs. The last thing she needs is for Madi to start thinking about her and Bellamy as more than friends. Actually, the last things she needs for herself is to start thinking about them that way. She just got him back—she can’t lose him over something like this.

“Hey.”

Of course he came to find her. They’ve all been keeping closer tabs on her than they ever did before they left—like they still can’t believe she’s alive and they’re not quite willing to lose her again. She feels the same way about all of them.

“I thought you were making dinner,” Clarke says as he sits next to her. When he doesn’t answer her, she presses her shoulder against his.

“Madi took over,” he explains, leveling her with a stare. “She doesn’t trust us.”

“Can you blame her? You’ve been working exclusively with algae for six years.”

“I don’t blame her,” he says quickly. “I blame _you_.”

He’s smiling, so she only shrugs in response. He’s not wrong.

They sit in silence, arms still resting against each other, for what feels like forever. It’s not—only a few seconds, really—but she wishes it was. She could sit with him like this forever.

“Is she okay?” he asks finally and Clarke squeezes her eyes closed for a second. “What?”

“She’s fine.”

“I’m not fine,” he admits quietly and Clarke looks at him, shocked. “Those are _our_ people and I miss them, but I’m not fine. This is a lot.”

“I know.” And she does. “We’ll be okay. We’ll get through it.”

He looks at her now and she balks at the intensity behind his eyes. “Together?” His voice is low and rough—anxious.

“Together,” she promises before leaning in to hug him. She can’t look at him anymore—not when he’s looking at her like that.

He hugs her back, one arm tight around her waist as the other one moves to the back of her neck again. This time, though, the tips of his fingers stroke the sensitive skin as he holds her and she shivers under his touch.

“She’s not really fine,” Clarke says into the crook of his neck. He pulls back—just his head—to get a good look at her.

“What’s wrong?”

The arm around her waist dislodges so he can brush the hair out of her face and her whole heart aches at the memory of the last time he did it—just before he left for six years.

“I mean,” she says, pulling back and standing up and away from him. He stands too, but keeps a safe distance and crosses his arms. It’s like he needs to physically stop himself from reaching for her again. She knows the feeling. “She’s _fine_. She’s just confused. I think we both are.”

“About what?” Bellamy’s low, rough voice has always made her fight back a blush. But she can’t fight it now, not after not hearing it at all for six years.

“She’s heard me talking about you and to you since I met her,” she starts to explain and she sees his brow furrows.

“ _To_ me?”

“It’s, um,” she lets out a long sigh and forces herself to look him in the eye, “a long story.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“After,” she pleads and it takes him a second, but he nods. “So, she was the one that made me realize how much I missed you and _why_ I missed you as much as I did. But without ever knowing or seeing you, she didn’t know how you felt about me. And now…”

She can’t finish her thought. He looks like she tore him open and she doesn’t want to tear him anymore. She just wants to be there with him.

“Now she sees how much I missed you too?” he asks and she shrugs quickly before giving in and nodding. “I thought you were _dead_ , Clarke. For six years.”

“I know,” she promises him. He doesn’t need to say anything else. They don’t need to be anything other than friends. She doesn’t want to force the issue. She’s just happy he’s here. “I tried telling you. Every day. I radioed you every single day. I just missed you.”

“Clarke,” he says with a dry laugh. He runs a hand over his face and takes a step closer to her. “Finding you alive is the best thing that’s happened to me in a _very_ long time. I wish I knew you were trying to tell me. We would have done everything we could to get back to you sooner.”

“I know,” she tells him, taking her own step closer. “For that, I’m happy you couldn’t hear me. You got down here safely. Who knows what could have happened if you rushed it.”

Bellamy just lets his gaze fall to the floor between them. With his eyes focused on anything other than her, she finally gets the courage to say it. “Madi thinks you’re touching me a lot. I tried to tell her it’s just how you are, but she didn’t believe me. _I_ don’t believe me.”

“You’re probably right not to,” he agrees, still looking down. “I tried to move on after we left. I thought you were dead. I didn’t have a choice. But you’re _not_ dead. You’re here. I’m here. We’re finally here together.”

“I want to stay here. Together. No matter what happens tomorrow or in the next few days, I want to stay where you are.”

Bellamy finally looks up again, right into her eyes, with a soft smile on his face. “I want that, too,” he promises and she smiles, moving closer to hug him again.

Clarke still shivers when his bare fingers touch her bare neck, but she doesn’t get self-conscious like before. Instead, she hugs him tighter and hides her face in his neck and she feels him do the same.

When she feels the purposeful press of his lips against her neck, she laughs into his. “You really like the haircut, huh?”

“I really do,” he says, kissing her neck for real before he pulls back to look at her. “You know it’s you I really like, right? I don’t care about the hair.”

“I like you, too,” she promises, kissing his cheek. It’s been _so_ long since the first time she did it. His beard tickles her face, but she doesn’t mind. “But I think you kind of have a thing for my neck,” she says into his ear and, for once, she feels him shiver in her arms.

“Okay,” he agrees, caging her face between his palms so both of his pinkies deliberately rest on her neck. “You got me.”

And then kisses her—on the lips, this time—and Clarke is so happy he’s home.


End file.
